Harry Potter and the Quality Dumbledore
by Thebeanonscene
Summary: What if Dumbledore wasn't the divisive headmaster he's been made out to be but was in fact actually the great wizard we expected? What if he actually took the initiative on Horcrux's and didn't take no for an answer. What if Harry Potter didn't grow up with the Dursley's?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sat alone in his office, head in his hands as his long-time friend Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody left through the floo.  
It was very late at night; such was the nature of these visits. The children had been in bed for a few hours yet, after quite possibly the most somber Halloween feast Hogwarts had ever observed. The reason Mad-eye had come was to debrief Albus on the Bones' situation. Never one for sugar coating, Moody had explained to the tired headmaster in excruciatingly gruesome detail exactly how the Bones family had died and Dumbledore was struggling to get the images out of his head.  
'Perhaps a night cap and a dreamless sleep draught?' Albus mused sadly while Fawkes adjusted herself on her perch to get a better look at the headmaster,  
concern somehow etched in the birds stance and features. Albus had just decided to set that course of events to action when a loud whistling came from one of the silvery instruments in his office.  
He looked up sharply at the object, noting with dread that the steam being emitted was fading from blood red to grey before shutting off completely.  
Eyes watering, and spilling over, Dumbledore slowly ambled over to the beautifully ornate yet hopelessly defunct piece of equipment before him.  
The Potters had died. 'How?' 'HOW?!' He thought angrily as he wandlessly sent it flying across the room. Conspiracy theories whirling wildly in his head,  
Albus called Fawkes to him to phoenix travel to Hagrid's hut. After explaining the situation, the headmaster sent the watery eyed keeper of keys off to assess the situation while he reconvened the order once again, to issue horrible news.  
Dumbledore made it back to his office via Fawkes and first called on those who were in the castle. Minerva, in her surprisingly Slytherin green and silver colored tartan immediately stepped through to await the others, Filius quickly followed suite. Mad-eye was not where he was supposed to be, but on a hunch given the nature of their most recent meeting, was quickly found near literally drowning in liquor at the Leaky Cauldron. The Longbottom's were groggy and reticent to leave their infant alone, but obliged the request and shuffled through the floo as well. Peter was nowhere to be found, nor was Sirius, though the latter was hardly expected.  
The bastard was probably off celebrating with Riddle himself. Now having the most pertinent members of the Order of the Phoenix present,  
Dumbledore began explaining where their friends the Potter's had been, how and why. Following this, he explained what he knew of the situation that had presented itself only thirty minutes ago.  
The Longbottom's already knew how and why and though they were easily more distraught at the fact that their friends had been betrayed and murdered, they couldn't quite hide the brief looks of relief that flitted across their expressions at learning their son Neville wasn't the subject of that terrible prophecy. This relief was not to last however,  
as the reality of the situation sunk in. Alice, openly weeping at the loss of her best friend and her family, was the first to break the silence, "I demand to know who the secret keeper was Albus." She said in a tone that brooked no arguments.  
"It deeply, deeply saddens me to say, my dear Alice, that the secret keeper was none other than Sirius Black himself. Alastor, it appears your suspicions of a spy were correct after all." Dumbledore replied, eyes completely bereft of the ever-present twinkle.  
"BLACK! I'll KILL HIM WITH MY BARE HANDS!" Alastor shouted, vaguely waving his flask in the air as if trying to cast with it. More swiftly than one would have thought possible of a man with a peg leg, Alastor was in the floo shouting for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement headquarters and gone.  
Though the meeting was not over, none could bring themselves to argue his departure. Instead, they found themselves silently supporting him.  
Before any more drama could unfold, an itching sensation behind his left eye, triggered by the schools wards alerted Albus that Hagrid had returned,  
though he could not identify by what method, nor could he decipher the indications that there was slightly more of Hagrid than usual. Even stranger yet,  
Hagrid seemed to be heading toward the infirmary. "My friends, forgive me for calling on you and then leaving, but Hagrid has returned and I must speak with him.  
Frank, Alice.." Albus had to stop for words failed him right then. What could he say? Realizing he'd paused for too long already, he settled on what meager comforts he could muster and issue, "I am so sorry for your loss. We shall meet later to discuss how best to honor their sacrifice."  
With a few terse nods and no further ado, the headmaster extricated himself from the office and went straight for the infirmary.

Upon arriving, Albus became disoriented. The scene before him was jarringly different than what he expected and it took him longer than he would care to admit to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Hagrid was wailing in the corner sipping on a calming draught which was to be expected, but Poppy Pomfrey was a storm of activity,  
the eye of which appeared to be an infant. In his stupor, Dumbledore's first thought was of a student having given birth. Reassessing that, he remembered that no students under his care had been pregnant that year, nor any other year during his entire tenure and furthermore to the best of his knowledge, never even under headmaster Dipet's reign had a child been delivered at Hogwarts. Unable to stave off his confusion, he made his presence known by first clearing his throat, then doing so again slightly louder in-between shouts of misery from Hagrid so as to be heard. Poppy's eyes never strayed from her activities but she called over her shoulder  
"Get in here Albus, I need you now!" Knowing Poppy, the situation must have been absolutely dire for her to call someone into her sphere of activities.  
Madam Pomphrey was not one who asked assistance lightly. "What is the meaning of this Poppy?" Albus asked, figuring the quickest way out was through. Madam Pomfrey explained tersely, "Hagrid brought young Harry Potter here. He found him in the wreckage of the Potter's cottage! Albus please look at this scar.. I don't know what these readings mean." Eyes widening to near bursting at the revelation, Dumbledore performed the diagnostics that Poppy requested, plus a few more for his own investigative purposes. Perplexed further by his findings, Albus dug deeper into his repertoire and finally came to a terrible conclusion.  
He performed the spell again, hoping he was wrong the first time but his efforts were to no avail. "Poppy, have you treated the boy? Is he healthy?" Albus asked calmly, belying the hurricane of emotions engulfing his insides. "Yes Albus everything else is fine but that's a curse scar! And it has properties I've never even heard of! Do you know what this is?" Madam Pomphrey implored.  
Indeed Albus Dumbledore knew exactly what had happened to this poor infant, though he could not, nor would not bring himself to say it for fear of anyone else discovering the possibilities and implications. "I fear, Poppy, that young Harry here has suffered a great ordeal. There is not anything further we can do. I assure you though my dear, that while this scar will likely be permanent, the boy is in no imminent danger. Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked, garnering the half giant's attention.  
"What has become of James and Lily? What did you see at the cottage?" Blowing his great nose into a shower towel, Hagrid replied "they're DEAD!  
Poor Harry 'ere's folk 're Dead pr'fessor!" Dabbing at his eyes, Hagrid continued, "Looked as though someone got ole you-know-who though pr'fessor, saw 'im lyin there meself. Dead as nails, 'im. Sirius wanted ter take Harry off but I thought it'd been best if'n I was ter take 'im back here fer Poppy ter look 'im over.  
Sirius agreed an' loaned me his motor wheeled thingy ter get 'im back 'ere quick-like."  
Albus was seething at how close the boy had come to being murdered a second time tonight, though that may have been a kinder fate than what that scar indicated.  
How could this be? Had it been an accident? But no.. The process to make a Horcrux was much more involved, it couldn't have happened by accident.  
But how could Tom have died if Harry was a Horcrux now? How could Tom have died regardless? Surely Harry could not have 'done the deed' as it were.  
Without answers and no means readily available to obtain any, Albus quickly assembled a plan of action. "Poppy, please watch baby Harry while I sort some things out.  
I will be back shortly."  
With a grim nod, Madam Pomphrey conjured a chair for herself and a sucker for Harry so as to quiet him. Seeing the immediate situation was under control, Albus left the school and apparated to Godrics Hollow to investigate himself.

What he found inside the Potter's home was sickening and he had to pause more than once to keep his composure, this would be a longer night yet.  
After identifying James and confirming his death, Albus made his way upstairs to the charred remains of the nursery. Upon sighting the slightly burnt visage of Lily Potter, Dumbledore finally lost the battle with his emotions and let forth the small dry retching that had been fighting its way up his throat. Hiccoughing slightly at his turbulent breathing, Albus shifted his gaze to fall upon the blackened husk of what was the greatest enemy Wizarding Britain had ever seen. Through identifying charms,  
he ascertained the fact that this was indeed Tom Marvolo Riddle and he was without a doubt, 'dead as nails'. Rage flooded through the headmaster as he again thought on the fact that Sirius Black had had the audacity to try to kidnap the young Harry Potter after his master failed to kill him.  
He was certain that if Alastor failed, Dumbledore would be the very next in line to gift Sirius Black swift punishment.  
After searching a short while for Tom's wand and coming up empty, Albus conducted a few investigative spells, noted the readings, and erected the strongest notice-me-not charms he knew for both muggle and wizard alike over the ruined cottage and left again for the school.

Dumbledore had not just seen but actually helped with the composure of the Potter's last will and testament and knew that Alice Longbottom was Harry's godmother, soon to be adoptive mother, but he was certain the boy would not be safe with them just yet. Albus needed to know more about the Horcrux in Harry's head first before he could endanger either the boy or the Longbottom's. Not only that, but with Sirius Black being Harry's God father and still at large, Albus was sure the boy was in imminent danger, seeing as Sirius would know about Alice as well.  
Once the headmaster made it back to the infirmary, he noted the additional presence of Minerva, expression like weather-beaten stone; hard and watery.  
"Albus, what have you found?" Minerva asked, desperate for better news than she had heard earlier. With a sad sigh, Dumbledore cast his gaze down toward his feet and replied, "It would seem that something went terribly wrong when Voldemort himself assaulted the Potter's tonight. James and Lily are dead.."  
Albus took a moment to let that sink in, when he saw Minerva's expression shift back to hardened determination he continued, "But it would seem that when Tom attempted to strike their son Harry down, a large explosion of magic occurred, wrecking the nursery and destroying Voldemort's body.  
In my investigations, it became apparent that the explosion was a wildly destabilized killing curse."  
Dumbledore was careful not to say that Voldemort was dead, as he was now certain the despicable excuse for a wizard had made Harry into a Horcrux and, for all he knew, might have made more. Something about the situation gave Albus the impression that this could not have been Tom's first foray with a Horcrux. It was too uncontrolled. Through her tears, Minerva responded despondently, "Well Albus, shall I get Alice back on the floo?" As Minerva had also consulted on the making of the Potter will, she too knew that Alice was up to bat so to speak, for raising Harry. "Actually Minnie, I fear that until Mr. Black is in custody that would be rather unwise.  
I seem to recall Lily had a sister with whom she did not get along?" Dumbledore replied whilst refining his plan as he went. Minerva replied heatedly, "Surely you don't mean to take Harry there?" disbelief plain in her features. "From what I've heard, Lily Potter's sister is one of the most miserably intolerant muggles in the whole of Britain?!" Seeing his favorite deputy head mistress' vehement retort helped harden his resolve, proving the finer point of his idea.  
No one would expect the boy to go there, least of all Sirius Black, and he voiced that opinion.  
Now understanding of the headmaster's devious plan, Minerva replied "That must be the most Slytherin idea you have ever had Albus. It is clever, I must admit, but mark my words; that boy will not be there any longer than he must." Hearing a loophole he wasn't in any way keen to capitalize on, Dumbledore nodded his agreement and enlisted the services of Hagrid once again. Before he sent the groundskeeper on this most disheartening task, he wrote a quick letter so as to satiate any questions the Dursley's,  
if he remembered correctly, could have had. Once they departed, Albus made his way back to his office and private quarters, finally following through on his plans he had made ages ago for sleep. He would notify the Longbottom's of the plan the following morning.

-oOoOoOo-

Upon waking, Albus Dumbledore found he was quite disoriented yet again. This was because Fawkes was hovering over his head holding the Daily Prophet in her beak, fire quite literally in her eyes. "Well good morning my dear. Pray tell, what is the matter?" Albus asked of his familiar. Fawkes dropped the newspaper on Dumbledore's face by way of reply and flashed away in an angrier than usual burst of fire. Citing the headline as the cause of his phoenix's behavior, Albus absentmindedly wondered when Fawkes had learned to read, before shaking off his sleepy demeanor. Recognition lit through him and brought him on par with his familiar's feelings.

 ** _"Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived!"_**

 _Late last night on this most terrible of hallowed eves; You-Know-Who sought to destroy his latest victims, the last remaining vestiges of the Potter line, in Godrics Hollow. Under cover of darkness, the dark lord attacked and killed both James and Lily Potter. The most perplexing mystery however is this; following the murders of the two Potter's, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named cast the killing curse for what was to be the last time at one Harry James Potter, born only just over a year ago. Investigations are still ongoing and our sources are still hunting down information but we now know for a fact that when You-Know-Who cast the killing curse on Harry Potter, something caused the curse to backfire and destroy the dark lord! Harry Potters whereabouts are at present, unknown but what is most certainly known and shall be made known forever more is that we at the Daily Prophet and hopefully Britain as a whole are eternally grateful to both James and Lily Potter for their great sacrifice and to young Harry Potter for ending this tyrant's most abhorrent reign of terror…."_

The article continued on, citing more highly sensitive and terribly accurate information. 'How did they discover these things already?!' Dumbledore thought angrily.  
They even knew about the fidelius and Sirius! unable to completely reign in his ire, Albus rather huffily readied himself for the day and quickly conduct his morning ablutions before heading straight for the floo. Wanting to confirm the temporary fostering of Harry went well, Albus called on his Deputy Headmistress first.  
"Good morning Minnie. I take it all has gone well?" Albus asked with a faux merry smile. Minerva stared back with a withering expression that seemed to say  
"I cannot believe you just used that expression to describe this disgusting travesty of justice." though her vocal response was slightly kinder, it was not without a fair  
amount of sarcasm, "If by well Albus, you mean that they did not outright murder the boy then yes."  
Losing some of the merriment in his expression Dumbledore continued on, "Do you believe he will be alright for the time being? Surely they cannot be that terrible.."  
Nonplussed at the Headmasters blind faith, McGonagall replied bluntly, "Yes, he will survive. Provided that he is out by the end of the week.  
I will not abide by Harry living there any longer than that. It is my opinion that the Dursley's will do irreparable harm to that boy if he is there for an extended  
duration of time." Wondering if Minerva might possibly be just slightly jaded, he wondered aloud what could be so terrible about the aforementioned family. Minerva though was not one for conceding even a centimeter, "You should have seen the way that woman was screeching after she read the letter Albus.  
And the way they dote on that miserable child of theirs? I'll never understand how they could give an infant sweets for breakfast. All the while,  
they gave Harry a lemon wedge for breakfast this morning. The boy couldn't even pick it up!" Sensing this was a battle he would gain no ground in,  
Dumbledore reassured his Deputy Headmistress, "Well Minnie I assure you this will only be temporary. Harming the lad in any way is far from my intentions."  
Minerva having won the battle, let it be known she intended to also win the war with her parting statement, "It better be Albus. I will remove him myself if I must."  
With a nod and a good day the call was severed.  
Before the headmaster could even so much as make his way toward the floo powder, his fireplace lit up again and out stormed one Alice Longbottom,  
Daily prophet in hand and a sheepish looking Frank Longbottom in tow. "Where is he Professor." Alice demanded, barely restrained anger just below the surface.  
Understanding he was again on thin ice, Albus calmly made his way back to his desk and tried to defuse his old students temper before she could get further around the bend. "Good morning Mrs. Longbottom, Mr. Longbottom. Lemon drop?" He asked, feigning clueless merriment. The anger broiling below flashed violently in Alice Longbottom's eyes as she shouted down Dumbledore. "Cut the act! Harry is my godson and I want to know where he is!"  
While he folded his hands in his lap, Albus attempted again to calm his understandably irate guests. "Alice, Frank, please sit down. Allow me to explain."  
As the Longbottom's complied, Dumbledore continued, "As you know, Sirius Black has not yet been apprehended. As im sure you are also aware,  
Mr. Black was privy to the Potter's will and certainly knows that, following last night, Harry will make his way into your custody shortly.  
What you do not know is that after the incident last night, Sirius arrived at their cottage in Godrics Hollow and attempted to abduct young Harry from Hagrid  
before he disappeared." Shock now being the dominant expression on the Longbottom's faces also leaked into their voices as Alice and then Frank quietly replied,  
"Is he safe at least? You must keep him safe Albus. I cannot even think about losing him too." Alice led heatedly and Frank followed mildly,  
"When will you be giving him over?"  
the Headmaster placated them both with his response, "Yes, I can assure you that Harry is safe and I plan to bring him to you once Sirius is apprehended."  
Seeing the sense in that, the Longbottom's moved the conversation along in the form of Frank offering assistance. "Is there anything I can do?  
Surely the aurors are already searching. I know I'm supposed to be on leave but of course I'll do anything to help." Albus contemplated for a moment, his thoughts along the line of 'well why not'. A short moment later saw him make up his mind as he replied "Certainly Mr. Longbottom. I believe the auror in charge of the search is Alastor  
at present. If you would like to join the hunt you will most likely find at least a liaison in your offices. Also, I believe now that Voldemort's vessel has been dispatched you may release the Fidelius on Longbottom Manor." One of the things Dumbledore loved about the Longbottom's was that not once, in all the time that he'd known them, had they ever so much as batted an eye at the use of the name Voldemort. He was also pleased to note that yet again, his audience hadn't cottoned on to his sidestepping to avoid referring to Voldemort as dead.  
"Thank you Albus. We'll leave you be. I apologize for the intrusion." Frank said, leading his wife to the floo by hand. Albus called out to the retreating couple  
in supplication, "Not at all my dear boy. Do be safe, you now have two children to look after." Nodding somewhat absentmindedly, Alice followed her husband through the floo. Now that the most pressing matters of the day were addressed, Albus headed directly for his private library. There was a great deal of research he needed to do.

-oOoOoOo-

'I WANT EVERY AVAILABLE BODY ON THE JOB! YOU THERE! SPREAD THE WORD TO THOSE ON LEAVE, SHITES CANCELLED AS OF NOW! We will track down this murdering, backstabbing, filth if it's the last thing I do." Moody growled as he tore through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. His fervor and determination however,  
led the hunt to an inevitable standstill. It wasn't that the department was impotent, it was just that Sirius Black was one of the absolute best hit wizards in over a hundred years and if the bastard didn't want to be found, you'd better bet he wouldn't be found. The only positive on their side at this point was the fact that Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody, wasn't just the best in over a hundred years, he was arguably the best of all time.

-oOoOoOo-

It took Dumbledore just over thirty nine hours to find every piece of information Hogwarts had to offer on Horcrux's. The reasons for it taking so long were accorded to the fact that you could not summon books magically from the restricted section and the incredibly obscure nature of Horcrux's in the first place.  
Most books only ever had a vague reference to the things far less any hard facts. The Headmasters private library had a few more illuminating tomes on the matter,  
but as Albus deplored the very idea of dark magic, his selections were limited. Despite the adversities, Dumbledore had still accumulated and inferred a fairly functional understanding of Horcrux's, including their nature, process of creation, beneficial aspects and pitfalls. It so turned out that, though one could conceivably make more than one Horcrux, it was rather like folding a piece of parchment; incredibly difficult to do an eighth time. This led Albus to a rather cynical thought process in which he briefly assumed the dark tosser had made his eighth and final Horcrux this past Halloween. Dispatching that idea as terribly depressing and also unlikely,  
given the hints about what happened to those who attempted an eighth Horcrux, Albus went on to investigate the strange readings he acquired  
at the Potter cottage that night. In his studies, he discovered an incredibly worn and old book on blood magic's. The book itself was a guess based on a hunch,  
but when checked against the library log and confirmed that one Lily Potter had borrowed it around the time the Potters went into hiding, Albus felt he was onto something. Towards the end of the book Dumbledore made his breakthrough. The ancient spell fit perfectly and it saddened him deeply to think he must have found the cause of the demise of Tom Riddle. The spell wasn't necessarily dark, but the required situation to perform the spell was horrible.  
One must know without doubt they would give their life for the person they wanted to protect. Furthermore, they must willfully sacrifice their magic to the benefactor prior to their death. Once the caster was ready to perform the spell, they had to enlist the service of another to kill them in cold blood,  
all the while staring their benefactor in the eyes. Horrible indeed, but at least that was one mystery solved. The benefits of this were also not to be unappreciated as the protections afforded by the spell were unparalleled! 'Perhaps the boy should stay with the Dursley's after all..' Dumbledore mused, weighing the pros and cons silently  
in his head. After a brief stop to the kitchens, Albus had one more lead he wanted to track down. Something about the library records from when Tom was a student was bothering him a great deal.  
The headmaster knocked lightly but quickly at the head of Slytherin house's door. Without waiting for an answer he opened it and peeked his head in, catching Horace Slughorn standing and brushing caramelized sugar off his robes. "Hello Albus, can I help you?" Slughorn asked, seeming slightly peeved at the abrupt disruption. "Yes Horace I was wondering if I might have a word with you?" Dumbledore said as he made his way through the door. Somewhat disarmed by the intrusion,  
Horace granted the Headmaster his audience. "Certainly, please take a seat." Doing so, Albus cut straight to the chase, "Horace, I was wondering if you remembered a student by the name of Thomas Riddle? I believe he was in your 'Slug Club' as it were, in the early fifties." Horace Slughorn's eyes widened in fear so briefly if you'd blinked you would have missed it, quickly settling into calculated ignorance. Voice quivering slightly, the resident potions master replied "Why Headmaster I can't say that I do.  
Why ever do you ask?" Slughorn asked, bordering cheeky in his demeanor. Not fooled for a moment, though ready to pretend he was, Dumbledore responded,  
"Ah Horace I was merely attempting to track down a missing library book. I reviewed the logs and found that you and he both lent that very book out once or twice and  
I have need of it at present." Fear now an evident undercurrent in his face, Horace tried to end the discussion, "Terribly sorry old chap but I do not believe my memory serves to that late a request. Now if you don't mind I was just about to take my leave.."  
Albus was not entertained by the verbal sparring and was actually rather desperate to know what young Tom had discovered. It was under the guise of this great desperation that Dumbledore justified his next actions. He'd found that when searching for a direct memory in someone else's head, simply saying what you were looking for went a long way toward dragging that memory to the 'center stage' of one's mind. Without prevarication, Albus locked eyes with his potions master and said "Horcrux's".  
This had the visual effect of a painful stunner as Horace Slughorn violently shuddered and went white under the legilemens assault on his brain.  
He was however quick enough to amend the memory in question at the last second before the Headmaster so rudely reviewed it.  
In the edited version of the memory was a short conversation between a significantly younger and less stout Slughorn and an 'innocent' yet precocious Tom Riddle wherein, Slughorn shouted and raved and threw the boy from his office. Disappointed in his lack of success, Dumbledore released the professor and stood.  
Not being quite able to stand at the moment, Horace leaned back and let forth the most aggressive expression he could recall ever making,  
hissing rather than shouting though his volume began climbing in that direction, "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, never in all my years have I been so rudely accosted! I won't stand for this! I won't have it! Off with you I must pack! I resign you dangerous coot! How dare you!"  
Surprised at the verbal lashing but thinking that it was not a heat of the moment decision, Albus nodded his head.  
"I am truly, deeply sorry for the invasion professor Slughorn. This is of the absolute upmost importance and I could not, nor can I play games.  
If you feel you must take your leave, I will only say that I understand. I do implore you though Horace, this is imperative to the fight against Voldemort!  
You must relinquish your knowledge of this!" shuddering again in the same fashion as before at the name Voldemort, Horace recovered moments later and spat back,  
"I do not care and DON'T SPEAK HIS NAME! I know nothing! I owe you NOTHING! LEAVE ME BE!" Though he was both shouting and defiantly on his feet,  
Horace was more terrified than he'd ever been. Here he was standing against the great Albus Dumbledore, playing dumb in defense of his most shameful moment.  
Unable to take any more, he himself rushed out of the office, not knowing where he intended to go, only that he had to get away. Dumbledore dipped his head in chagrin and disappointment; both in himself and the results he'd obtained. 'What a wasted and regrettable venture' Albus thought to himself as he slowly made his way back to his office.

-oOoOoOo-

"DROP YOUR WAND AND RAISE YOUR HANDS YOU BLOODY FUCK! DO IT NOW!" Mad-eye screamed as pandemonium rained down around him.  
Body parts, rubble, blood and hair splattered haphazardly about staining the walls of nearby shops and the remains of the street and curb. A muggle water spout had burst and was blasting water all over his squad of aurors as they moved in. Aside from the muggle contraptions wailing, the only sound was Blacks hysterical laughing/sobbing. "BWAHAHAHAHAherAUGHHHHH! BLOODY FUCKING RATS BWAHAHA. KILL ME MOODY! PLEASE!" Black wept as he tossed his wand in compliance.  
Unfortunately, moody was moving to make the actual arrest when one of the newer recruits went in and snapped the recently relinquished wand. "HEY YOU FUCKIN TOSSER! You just destroyed evidence!" Moody shouted, both angry at the greenie for his idiocy and grimly satisfied that the wand could never again be used to hurt or betray people. Once the magic dampening cuffs were on, Sirius leaned back to look moody in the good eye while its magical counterpart surreptitiously whirled about, monitoring their surroundings. Sirius' eyes were half crazed but the grief in them was unmistakable, "Please kill me Moody I can't live without them." He begged quietly.  
"Should've thought oh that before you sold yer soul to the devil." Moody said, unfazed. He would ensure the full weight of the Wizarding world came down on Sirius Blacks Head.

-oOoOoOo-

Albus had skipped dinner again in his pursuit of knowledge. Specifically knowledge about how to destroy Horcrux's. He knew how they were made and how they were used, what vessels usually worked best and even who discovered them, but he had only found two references to possible solutions and neither of them was viable.  
He needed to remove the Horcrux without harming Harry and lighting him on fire or sicking a basilisk on him seemed to be a tad overkill. After some critical thinking,  
Albus surmised that the only probable reason Tom would have to steal the book he did was to cover up something, and Albus figured he knew exactly what that  
something was; how to destroy a Horcrux. Albus knew that he had to have that book weather it had what he was looking for or not and eventually wrote to every relevant establishment he could think of that might have a copy. He was prepared to pay whatever price it cost to get his hands on it and annotated that fact in his letters.  
The headmaster was just sending out his last owl for the day when he heard what sounded like a baby crying in the hall down the stairs to his office.  
When the gargoyle guardian warned him that Professor Mcgonagall was heading his way 'in a righteous fury' with a baby in arms, he knew his night was going to be more interesting than he would have liked.  
His door slammed open moments later and Mcgonagall stormed in, chest heaving and face contorted in a rictus of rage, baby Harry tucked under one arm.  
Minerva conjured a bassinet beside her and swiftly placed Harry in, then she erected some silencing wards from the outside in, so as to protect baby Harry from her rant. "ALBUS DUMBLEDORE! NEVER IN ALL MY YEARS HAVE I BEEN MORE FURIOUS!" Her Scottish brogue rendered her thunderous words nearly indecipherable,  
but Dumbledore had become something of an expert translator in his years beside the woman.  
"THERE I WAS OUTSIDE THE KITCHEN IN MY ANIMAGUS WHEN LITTLE HARRY ASKED FOR A BISCUIT FROM HIS COUSIN. A BISCUIT!"  
The look of absolute indignation and the situation as a whole had confused Albus considerably, though he was wise enough to allow her to finish without interruption.  
"When that BRAT of a cousin of his started crying that WALRUS OF A MAN SMACKED HARRY SO HARD HE FLEW OUT OF HIS CHAIR!" Dumbledore went from confused to equally enraged in a fraction of a second. 'How could someone hit an infant!' he thought disbelievingly. "Minerva what did you do?" Albus responded,  
surprising himself by hoping she had done horrible and illegal things, he barely managed not to make that known in his expression and tone.  
"WELL I BLASTED DOWN THEIR WALL, STUNNED THEM ALL AND TOOK HARRY THAT'S WHAT I DID!" Minerva shouted back defiantly, hands landing on her hips following her erratic hand gestures that accompanied the statement. "Minerva that was terribly reckless.." Albus intoned, though he contorted his tone so that the words were of encouragement rather than chastisement. "IT WAS AND I CALLED THE OBLIVIATORS ALREADY." Minerva shouted, not in anger but in bewildered confusion.  
Recounting her actions had the unforeseen effect of reminding her exactly what she'd done and the implications of those actions.  
"Please Minnie do not fret. Given the situation, I think it best we not inform the aurors until after they've left the Dursley's home. The muggle couple may not survive should the aurors discover this development in their presence." Dumbledore said as he conjured an overly plushy chair and gently pushed her into it.  
He was about to summon one of the house elves for tea when Moody made an appearance in his fireplace.  
"Caught 'im Albus. Crouch is throwin 'im in Azkaban as we speak." Nodding to himself, Dumbledore couldn't help thinking that there was not a better time for the capture to have been made. Little Harry could not possibly go back to where he'd been since the incident.  
All of his researching of Horcrux's was making itself useful in that moment as well, as he now knew that the Horcrux was nothing more than a malignant, though contained problem for tomorrow. The Longbottom's would be safe watching over Harry. Albus replied to Moody, regaining the trademark twinkling eyes as he spoke,  
"Very good work Alastor. If you don't mind, Minerva and I must make use of my floo so we can get Harry here off to meet his new parents."  
With a nod of his own, Moody acquiesced, "Aye. Good day headmaster." he said as he disappeared again and the flames went back to normal.  
"Well Minnie it would appear your timing is rather impeccable." Albus said with a satisfied smile and a now mightily twinkling eye. Watching the relief spread across Minerva's face was like seeing the sun rise. Perhaps if he was half a century or so younger.. But no. They were coworkers. A relationship would be wholly inappropriate.  
"Shall we?" Albus said, offering his left hand while he canceled the conjuring's and summoned Harry with his right. They made their way over to the floo and called for Longbottom Manor, but just as they began to swirl into the floo system, screams of agony made themselves apparent.

-oOoOoOo-

"WHERE IS OUR LORD YOU RAGING BINT!" Bellatrix Lestrange shouted at Alice through the latter's screams of agony. She released the Curcio so as to allow Alice a chance to reply. "He up and got himself offed by a one year old! Some great lord!" Alice shouted, though pain had distorted her voice to make it sound more like a breathy whimper. Frank had stopped screaming a few moments ago and she was worried because though she could not see her husband, she could see Rodolphus and he was still holding the spell. Barty Crouch Jr. of all people was off coddling her son. She started to yell for Barty to leave her bloody son well enough alone but she only managed to let the name loose of her lips before Bellatrix Crucio'd her again. Bellatrix held the spell so long that Alice's vocal chords had actually torn and she could no longer make sounds.  
When the spell stopped she thought Bellatrix had gotten bored and was switching tactics, but there were noises she didn't understand happening around her now  
and she was shaking so hard she couldn't focus. She thought she heard Dumbledore's voice shouting curses but she couldn't be sure.  
All she could see behind her lidded eyes was the flashing of spell fire. It took what seemed to her maybe ten seconds before the flashing stopped but she was so disoriented she thought it could have been hours. She finally managed to wrench her eyes open when she felt a familiar hand desperately grasping her own.  
She turned slightly so as to confirm who the hand belonged to but then Dumbledore was whispering near her ear "do not fret my dear Alice, everything will be alright. Everything will be alright." He kept saying over and over again. She drifted off into unconsciousness, her body desperate for the opportunity to repair itself.

-oOoOoOo-

 ** _Sirius Black, Bellatrix Lestrange, Barty Crouch Jr. And More Apprehended at last!_**

 _Saturday evening was both a victory and a terrifying loss for the light. While Aurors were busy apprehending Sirius Black, The Lestrange's and Barty Crouch Jr. were caught viciously torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom in their home, Longbottom Manor, by none other than Albus Dumbledore and Minerva Mcgonagall of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. Our sources say that the Longbottom's are in critical condition at St. Mungos…._

The front page of the Daily Prophet lay unread on the bed-side table next to Alice Longbottom. She had awoken some thirty or so minutes ago but hadn't gathered the energy to actually move yet. She knew in some small corner of her mind that she must be at St. Mungos. Only the hospital could produce that terrible smell of antiseptic and  
bad food. She mused to herself about how most wizards wouldn't even know what antiseptic was.  
She wondered how St. Mungos still managed to smell like it in light of that fact. Perhaps it was just hospitals in general?  
She went back and forth like this just a little longer until she drifted back off to a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I'm not sure if this is really required, but I've seen it in nearly every Fanfic I've read so I guess I'll put one in as well.. I don't own any part of the Harry Potter universe? My name is not Rowling and I'll never pretend it is.

A/N: Hello readers! Thanks for reading! My writing is a bit of a work in progress and I'm still adjusting to the intricacies of so if you catch any problems please let me know! Constructive criticism is very welcome. Thanks again!  
Also I apologize that it's taken me so long to post. The day job has been killer lately.

Chapter 2

Harry Potter was a happy child. That is, he was as happy as a child could be on a dirt floor in a shoddy wooden hut surrounded by dangerous magical creatures, whilst being playfully accosted by a slobbering pup of a bloodhound.  
"Down pup down! Don' want ter be drownin 'im in all that slobberin now eh?" Hagrid said,  
picking the tiny dog up by the scruff of his neck with a throaty chuckle. Harry's joyous laughter cut off sharply at the removal of his new friend, cries of misery now in its place with  
tiny hands outstretched and grasping the empty air in an attempt to reacquire the dog.  
"Oh 'ave it your way then yeh great cry baby." Hagrid replied, grinning from ear to ear.  
He set the dog back down next to his temporary ward where they immediately picked up where they had left off.  
"'aven't got around ter namin 'im yet lad. Got any ideas?" Hagrid asked rhetorically. From underneath the bloodhounds voracious sniffing and licking, bright green eyes locked onto beetle black ones,  
giving Hagrid the uncanny impression he'd been understood. "Was thinkin given he's a bloodhound an' all I might name 'im fang or summat. Whadya think eh? Ow's Fang sound?"  
Now sitting up, between trying to fend off the enthusiastic dog's advances Harry started clapping and giggling. "Fang!" harry said, making a gesture like an orchestra conductor; arms stretching horizontally. The newly dubbed 'Fang' yelped in surprise and scurried back, whimpering and looking up to his owner for reassurance. The reason for this was made blatantly apparent when, where no teeth had been a moment ago, one giant fang protruded from the dog's mouth. "OH. C'mere Fang, goodness 'arry!  
Good one that! But le's not be doin transfigurations and what not 'fore we're eleven eh?" Hagrid said, now slightly panicked. 'ow am I s'posed to undo that?' Hagrid thought as he made for his umbrella.

-oOoOoOo-

Meanwhile in the castle of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva Mcgonagall, Arthur and Molly Weasley, and one very tired looking Augusta Longbottom were meeting in the Headmasters office. "..And how are Frank and Alice, Augusta?" Minerva made small talk so as to stave off the awkwardness that followed their greetings, even though it was clear no one present was quite in the mood to exchange pleasantries. Making a face, Augusta replied "The healers are saying they may never recover." Letting that sink in, she continued, "But Frank is a strong boy and his Alice is just the same. I have the utmost faith in them." She finished, trying to hide her emotions behind a mask of stern indifference. Madam Augusta Longbottom had spent the last forty eight hours reassuming her role as head of house and it had been particularly difficult to handle on top of the grief she was dealing with for the possible, or probable if she was honest with herself, loss of her son and daughter in law.  
What she did not share with the gathering was that not only were the healers predicting Frank and Alice may not recover, they were fairly confident they COULD not recover. The damage from the perpetual Crucio's had rendered their bodies raw and vulnerable to infection and it was nearly all they could do to keep them from falling ill.

The healers had told her the night before that they would try some experimental muggle invention called "Antibiotics" so that they could focus on the spell damage but even the healers themselves could not say how likely its success would be. A coin toss was the most positive comparison that had been made for their odds, and however dismal this comparison was, she clung to it like a life raft.  
Frank and Alice Longbottom could survive by Augusta's force of will alone, if such a thing had healing properties. The voice of Dumbledore dragged her out of her reverie,  
"Well we share your confidence my dear." Albus said encouragingly, trying hard to force a twinkle into his eyes. "And what of Neville?" The headmaster continued. Suppressing another sigh,  
Augusta reiterated the status of her grandson yet again. "He's been very quiet but he is well Albus. Now may I ask as to why I have been summoned here this morning?" letting some of her ire at being woken so soon after her return from the hospital leak into her tone saw the Headmaster squirm ever so slightly and forced him to get to his point. Feeling as if Madam Longbottom's stare might actually have a temperature, and a high one at that, Dumbledore delved right into the meat of it,  
"Ah well, I daresay you have not been made aware of the arrangements James and Lily Potter had made for little Harry's fostering in the event of their untimely demise?" was his quick reply.

"I have heard of no such arrangements.." Augusta responded, lifting an eyebrow,  
feeling as though her workload was about to grow exponentially.  
Losing himself again in the little details, Albus painted the picture for Augusta,  
"As you may recall, Alice and Lily were spectacular friends in Hogwarts and got on much the same afterward. I believe this led Frank and James to develop quite the friendship as well. As such, the Potters named Alice as young Harry's god mother." Augusta was silent as she tried to reign in her negative emotions. Despite the frigid and callous nature she constantly tried to exude, she was not, in fact, heartless. She knew what her son and daughter in law would want her to do in this scenario, she even agreed with them. But how could she possibly manage raising two boys on top of everything else?  
By either her extended silence or the reticence that must have leaked through her mask of composure; Molly Weasley spoke up in her stead. "If you're not able however, Arthur and I would be happy to take him Augusta. It really would be the least we could do."  
Arthur Weasley, who had previously been looking on in suppressed pity, suddenly cocked his head, wide-eyed at his wife. Yes, it was the least ANYONE could do but really?! There were already six Weasley children running amok with a seventh practically knocking on the door!  
Arthur's look of abject terror was not missed by the present company and prompted Albus to speak up yet again, "I assure you Molly that while your offer is greatly appreciated it is not necessary. If Augusta is unable.." The headmaster did not get a chance to finish as he was cut off by Madam Longbottom,  
"I can take him Albus. Is he here? I can collect him now and be on my way." Somewhat surprised, Dumbledore responded in a soft kindly tone, so as to convey his acceptance of any answer and reached his hand out to rest gently on her forearm,

"Are you sure Augusta? Surely it will not be easy to care for two young boys at such a time as this." Silently reaffirming her conclusion, Augusta nodded decisively, "I am. As Mrs. Weasley has so aptly put, it is the least I could do." Molly, now looking guilty at the implied slight responded sheepishly but genuinely "Oh Augusta I did not mean to imply.." Again Augusta cut in so as to negate her previous reproachful statement, "It is quite alright Molly, I am sure you did not. I am as capable as ever of raising two children at once Albus. You may not have known but Frank was rarely alone during his summers and I managed those just fine."

Now feeling somewhat sheepish himself, Albus quickly attempted to clarify he too did not mean to cast aspersions,  
"Of course Augusta. No one here is insinuating you are incapable. We are merely concerned that, with all the goings on at present, that this may not be the best time. Perhaps we could find some temporary arrangements for Harry until the 'dust has settled' if you will?" sparing a glance at the Weasley patriarch as he spoke, the headmaster noted that Arthur looked much more accommodating at the mention of 'temporary' fostering. Augusta however had heard enough,  
"That won't be necessary Albus. Take me to the boy. I have many things I must do today."  
Glancing first at the Weasleys with a nod of dismissal, the Headmaster then turned his gaze toward his Deputy Headmistress, with a suggestive turn of his chin, he managed to convey the question 'would you mind doing the honors?' to which Mcgonagall nodded and gestured for Madam Longbottom to follow. "Very well Augusta. Minerva will escort you to Harry. Thank you Arthur, Molly. I will see you at the next meeting." Preparing to leave, Molly Weasley gave it one more go at mending fences, "Of course Albus and Augusta please, if you need anything at all don't hesitate to call on us." she said sincerely.  
Nodding her acknowledgement as she stood, Augusta Longbottom simply replied with a "Good day." And left down the stairs with Minerva.

-oOoOoOo-

"'Arry tha's not.. NO! No more dragons! GAH tha's a BAD MATTRESS! NO fire!" Hagrid's voice carried the more than 30 meters between his hut and the approaching Madam Longbottom and Minerva Mcgonagall. Minerva, having had the misfortune to have babysat for a good portion of the last two days, knew what was likely taking place in the hapless groundskeepers' home and gave Augusta a worried glance, the latter waved her off with a dismissive hand gesture.  
The door opened of its own accord at their knocking, given that it had been open in the first place due to the door handle being missing. Poking their heads in apprehensively, the formidable visitors were greeted by quite the sight. Hagrid held a stark naked and sky blue (clouds and all) Harry Potter hanging by one foot in his left hand, a puppy with one massive fang, dangling from the other, and was stamping out what appeared to be the tattered smoking remains of a bed that had been half transfigured into a dragon.  
The half giant's tea set had grown legs but not eyes and was trying desperately, though blindly, to escape the hut by sheer force, clashing repeatedly against the back wall as a team.  
What appeared to be a winged diaper was flapping about near the ceiling but then evidently grew tired and flew down to perch on Hagrid's head. The groundskeepers prized possessions, little whittled figurines (mostly magical animals by design) were not so little anymore, having expanded to nearly life size proportions and had begun eating the various herbs that Hagrid had lying about, as well as the table and all the other furnishings. The furniture had also gained some semblance of mobility and was desperately trying to evade the cannibalistic figurines. As they made their way inside, an anxious looking night stand lunged out the still open door with a hungry looking mahogany kneazle the size of a large dog chasing after it. The women just barely recovered from this spectacle in time to be halted yet again at the sight of the two doorknobs. The doorknobs in question had taken to the air quite literally like a jellyfish to water and appeared to be, to all watching eyes, attempting to procreate.  
Giving that one up as a miss, the now deeply worried Deputy Headmistress and further beleaguered Madam Longbottom turned their attentions back on poor Hagrid, who had successfully ended the bed's/dragon's reign of terror but was now hopping from foot to foot in an effort to escape the projectiles being hurled at him by Harry. The naked sky-baby was conjuring tiny stars that he was flinging about haphazardly. These stars seemed to be more than merely visual however because where they inevitably and invariably landed somewhere on Hagrid's massive frame, they left angry red welts that implied they were rather hot. With desperation in his eyes, Hagrid turned to the two stern and imposing women in his living room, hope now welling up in his chest. "Take it yeh said yes Mrs. Longbottom?"

-oOoOoOo-

It was a very tired Albus Dumbledore who finally settled down again in the Headmasters office at Hogwarts after one of the longer Mondays he could remember participating in.  
On the desk in front of him, tea lay ready though untouched, weighty tomes that would give muggle tely phonie catalogues a run for their money were stacked on nearly every available centimeter.  
Random innocuous potions ingredients covered the rest of the available space and his bowl of muggle sweets had been moved to his bedside table to provide that little bit more room. The Headmaster felt rather cramped at present, due to the oppressive presence of books mostly,  
though also to the potions apparatus hovering to his left. Ever since Horace Slughorn had fled the castle Dumbledore found himself assuming his former potions masters duties and responsibilities. The headmaster, now potions master as well, was wise enough to admit he needed to replace the former Slytherin Head much, much sooner rather than later. Alas however, this was a problem for another day, as Albus' monetary incentives for the book stores around wizarding Britain had paid off in spades, or so it seemed at first. Reading through the veritable cornucopia of rare books he'd acquired left Dumbledore feeling rather glum. It had quickly been deduced that, while heavily fortifying his personal library, in the endeavor to safely destroy Horcrux's it was nearly a wasted venture. It was only 'nearly' a wasted venture however, because the book directly before him seemed to be indicating that in the late thirteenth century,  
a dark wizard by the name of Orcus Chaor had been caught out with a Horcrux in his possession by the goblins. The book did not mention how the situation was dealt with,  
though it did mention that the goblins had abhorred this awful creation and eluded to the fact that the goblins had rectified the debacle in a manner befitting that era. Of course this had sparked one of the most gritty, despicable goblin/wizard wars ever seen and had eventually led to the allocation of all of Britain's goblins to underground mines and the further eventual wars that could be accredited for the founding of Gringotts. At first glance, Albus figured the goblins must have destroyed the Horcrux just as all others had been dealt with in the past. The reasoning for Dumbledore not dismissing this out of hand however, was due to the fact that this event was cited as happening some three or four hundred years prior to the publicized discovery of the fiendfyre or basilisk venom methods of destruction.  
Surely, they could have used either of the two and the disposal of the artifact merely did not rate a mentioning, but, what if they had indeed utilized some alternate method altogether?  
It would be just like wizards to steal the goblins method and claim it as their own, but Albus had a gut feeling about this and if he'd learned anything in his one hundred and seven years of life,  
it was that gut feelings would most often steer you right.  
It was with this gut feeling at the helm, that Dumbledore wrote a letter to the director of Gringotts himself requesting a private word at a date and time of his choosing.  
Feeling at least somewhat accomplished now he had a new lead, Dumbledore cleared his new library off with a wave of his wand and started in on his tea. He was only half-heartedly pondering  
who might be capable of replacing Slughorn when the solution to this problem, unbeknownst to Albus at present, took the form of a letter being dropped in his lap by a rather put-upon looking owl.

Dumbledore recognized the stamp on the back of the letter and a varied array of emotions cycled through his mind at sighting it. Albus had actually been dreading the possibility of having to come  
face to face with this particular wizard again. He knew Severus Snape was a soul desperate to be reclaimed by the light and he had attempted to help the poor boy recover from his past indiscretions.  
As far as redemption was concerned, Severus had taken the first small steps, though he had many more before him if he was to clear his conscious. It was not however,  
Severus's dalliances with the dark that had put off their reconvening, but the fact that Albus Dumbledore had outright failed him.  
Albus had made a promise to Severus that he would do everything in his power to save Lily Potter  
and while he indeed upheld that promise to the letter, it was not enough in the end.  
Dumbledore was modest enough to admit that failure though, and was not a former Gryffindor head boy for nothing. It would take courage to look this young man in the face and apologize,  
but it was without doubt the right thing to do. Opening the letter, Albus resigned himself to this appointment and left off to bed.

-oOoOoOo-

This particular Friday evening found Augusta Longbottom falling out of her newly developed routine.  
Ever since the attack on her son and daughter in law, Augusta would wake screaming,  
accept her morning tea from Orla the Longbottom house elf, (often liberally laced with calming draught) and head to Gringotts for a meeting with her financial consultant. Following lunch; which had quickly become the most varied event on her schedule, Madam Longbottom would run one errand or another and head off back to the Manor to watch over the boys. After ensuring Harry hadn't set the house on fire or transfigured the sitter into a dinosaur again, she would head off for St. Mungos and read to her Frank before coming back to put the boys to bed. Augusta was reticent to spend _any_ time in the hospital ever since her late husband Eustice fell ill. Eustice had spent just over nine months in critical condition before becoming comatose and finally passing on. That had been the hardest year of Augusta's life and it left deep scars on her psyche, or so she thought. Apparently those wounds had not scarred over but just scabbed over as they were bleeding freely in this new hell she found herself living.  
Madam Longbottom was not considered a formidable witch for nothing however.  
Though she would rather be anywhere on earth other than back at this hospital,  
helplessly sitting by the bedside of the most important man in her life, Augusta Longbottom would walk miles over broken glass for her son and she would rather be damned than not be there for him every step of the way.

It was not however for her son and daughter in law that she found herself again in the waiting room of St. Mungo's on a Friday night. Fostering young Harry had been far more difficult than she had anticipated; given that the boy was so prone to accidental magic she was convinced it was quite the opposite. The scene she'd discovered when walking in on Hagrid at Hogwarts had been mild in comparison to some of the things Augusta had come home to the past couple weeks.  
What she found when she returned from her luncheon with friends earlier that day had finally hardened her resolve in the matter.  
After somehow triggering the wards; causing them to forcibly eject the sitter from the grounds,  
Harry had broken himself and Neville out of the house by driving the marble dining room table through the back wall. Once free, Neville had begun to tangle with one of the more dangerous plants in the garden while Harry found an extremely venomous snake, enlarged it to ten times its normal size,  
and began riding it around the property like a war elephant. Clearly Harry's magic was dangerously out of control hence why all three of them were here.  
After a short stint in the waiting room,  
a balding gentleman with a slight hunch and bags under his eyes ushered the threesome into a private room and introduced himself. "Hello Madam Longbottom, my name is healer Arden.  
How can I help you today?" Ever the proponent of the 'brass tacks' approach, Augusta first set Harry on the patients bed and gave him one of her old bracelets to teethe on, sat down with Neville in her lap and elaborated, "Harry Potter here needs an adolescent magical binding.  
I believe he is both a danger to himself and others." Arden nodded to himself as the puzzle pieces clicked into place to solve the mystery of why he'd been summoned to pediatrics.  
Healer Arden was one of the most senior personnel in the hospital, having been there since the end of Grindelwalds reign of terror. Over the years he had cycled through nearly every branch of healing there was to be offered until finally settling on Artefact Accidents since it was the most difficult and he adored a challenge. The reason he had been asked to do a simple magic binding, he was certain, was not only due to his unparalleled accolades and credentials, but because Healer Arden was every inch a professional.

He had treated Quidditch stars, musicians, politicians, even Dumbledore himself and in all cases he did not so much as bat an eye. Arden knew that celebrities, and also their families, hated to be accosted by their medical provider like a common paparazzi, and he agreed.  
To act in such a manner would not only be unprofessional but terribly rude and unbecoming of a person holding his position. This was why, without even so much as glancing for the scar he knew must be hidden under that tuft of black hair, Healer Arden bid a "Yes Ma'am" and began the process of preliminary scans for the binding. Nodding here and there at the readings he found,  
Arden tried to ease the tedium a bit,  
"So aside from the incredible amount of magic coming off this little tyke, what makes you think he's so dangerous?" Arden asked. Augusta was bouncing Neville on her knee, looking on in vague disinterest (or so she would like others to think) when she replied,  
"Harry has a natural affinity for trouble. Inherited the knack for it from his father no doubt,  
my Frank has told me some stories over the years that defy belief."  
A smirk tugged at the corners of healer Arden's mouth while he listened, having also had the good fortune to have treated James Potter and Sirius Black once after a prank gone wrong, or right depending on your perspective.  
It was a long night that involved muggle aurors, strippers, a candy store and an overturned coach.  
It also happened to be one of the funniest stories he'd ever heard and when Arthur Weasley came in to confiscate the dangerously charmed, phallic purple rubber item that had started it all,  
they laughed themselves hoarse before letting the boys off with a warning and a slap on the wrist.  
"Ah, well let's hope there's a healthy balance of Lily in there as well hm?" Arden said,  
letting his smirk grow into a full grin. Seemingly displeased at the healer's good mood, Augusta muttered "not bloody likely" Under her breath. Deciding he'd be better off giving humor a miss with this one, Arden started to change the subject when one of his scans gave him a strange reading.  
Brows furrowing, the healer deviated from the usual workup scans in the hopes of finding an explanation. All he found were more questions which, thanks to his lengthy background with the artefacts wing, he was capable of finding answers to. All the tension and excitement of having another challenge presented to him did not mix well with his anxiety over what he was beginning to discover was going on inside this poor boy, and the change in his demeanor had finally cracked Augusta's faux indifference.  
Unknowingly allowing her concern to leak into her voice Augusta asked "Is there something wrong Healer Arden?" Without turning toward Harry's guardian; which he knew was terribly rude somewhere in the back of his mind, Arden answered her in a distracted tone "Actually I believe there is.  
I can't be certain without the proper equipment but it seems like Harry here has two magical cores.."  
He trailed off so that he could conduct another complicated scan that he hadn't mastered the wordless form of yet. Augusta froze as that news washed over her, recovering moments later after blinking away the surprise she said "That would.. explain quite a lot actually. Is that dangerous?" Arden shook his head, following up with a barely articulate explanation "Not.. necessarily… Though this scar… and of course the binding.." Healer Arden began in response but ended speaking mostly to himself.  
Frustrated with the mostly one sided conversation and now nervous to boot,  
Augusta lost her patience, "Pardon me Healer, but would you care to explain?"  
Snapping his attention back from his patient, Arden spun on his heal and bowed his head in supplication "I apologize Madam I've been terribly rude. My initial inquiries indicated that Harry has.. A lot of power at his disposal but when I scanned his core it was slightly offset and misshapen. When I narrowed the 'gaze' of the spell so to speak.. Well it appears like there is a fully developed adult core absorbing a significantly smaller more malleable core, or more specifically an adolescent one."  
Arden paused to ensure that Madam Longbottom was following along.  
When her face twitched angrily in anticipation he quickly resumed his explanation,  
"Again I would have to confirm these findings with a proper scanner but it is my belief that, should this be the case, we will be unable to perform the binding. Would you mind terribly if I explained using a simile?" Augusta's nostrils flared as her patience deflated to new lows, "So long as you spit. It. Out. Healer Arden, I can assure you I will not mind." Grimacing from the venom in her words and quailing a bit at her expression, Arden elaborated quickly,  
"Yes, of course. Imagine Harry's magical core is a bubble, and as he grows older and more adept with his abilities, so too does this bubble expand and mature. When we are very young, these bubbles are sometimes unstable and, while they may not pop,  
they can let off other smaller bubbles in the form of accidental magic.  
An adolescent magical binding is essentially applying a loose wrap of sorts around the bubble to prevent it from seeping out the accidental magic bubbles, whilst still allowing for natural growth.  
Once the core grows to a specified size these bindings fall of naturally and it does not affect the child in any way, other than keeping them safe. The problem with Harry is that if he does indeed possess a full grown magical core, binding it _will_ cause lasting, possibly lifelong pain and impose severe limits on his magical capabilities later in life, and that's best case scenario. If there were complications when he comes of age, we would then have to manually remove the wrappings which could result in scar tissue or collapse the core altogether. In essence, giving Harry a magical binding could turn him into a Squibb, or kill him.. Rather violently. The last two are statistically more likely."

Augusta struggled to find her voice. After starting then stopping twice, the healer came over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, making eye contact and speaking softly,  
"Madam Longbottom, you do not need to make this decision right now. We still need to confirm my findings and there _are_ alternatives we can offer. Perhaps I could take these two off your hands for a moment so you can grab a spot of tea?" When she started to argue against it Arden doubled down, "Augusta, really, it's alright.  
We'll wait here and you take all the time that you need. Besides, I'd much prefer to spend my afternoon in this wonderful company rather than doing actual work." He said with a wink, offering his hand to help her rise. Taken aback by the gesture of kindness Augusta responded softly, "Thank you Healer Arden.  
I will do just that. Would you like a cuppa?" Arden nodded his agreement and added a "Yes Ma'am" and ushered her out the door. "Now, how about we get you two some toys eh?"

-oOoOoOo-

Elsewhere in St. Mungo's, Albus Dumbledore sat comfortably in an excessively plush armchair of his own conjuring while across from him sat Healer Lucas Smythwick; head healer of the spell damage ward. Feeling just as distinctly unnerved by his former Transfiguration teachers quiet gaze as always,  
Smythwick fidgeted with the hem of his Healers robes and kicked off the conversation, "A pleasure to see you again old friend. Come to check up on the Longbottom's.. er.. again?" He enquired.

Shifting back from his patented 'piercing, though aloof' gaze to an expression of merrily pleased acknowledgement, Dumbledore nodded his head by way of reply. He did terribly enjoy how easy it was to unsettle his former pupil.

Smythwick, feeling as though Dumbledore must surely be torturing him on purpose but knowing he was unable to resist it, twitched again and was reminded of a detention served some fifty or so years ago  
in which Albus had performed nearly the exact same routine in order to force an admission of guilt out of the then young Lucas. "Ah. Yes well, that was a spot of genius there with the muggle medications  
old chap, and I do appreciate your continued assistance and guidance, but you must surely know I cannot divulge confidential information.." Smythwick started his rebuff strong, but lost conviction halfway through and the end came off more as resigned chastisement.  
Rather satisfied with the results of his silent pressuring, Albus carried on in the same manner with another nod and twinkly eyed smile.  
Lucas flushed a bit at the nod, closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Once he was confident his voice would not shake, Smythwick tried one last time to avoid breaking the healers code of confidentiality, "Albus I assure you they are doing well. Better than we expected in fact, but that is _all_ I can tell you."  
Dumbledore was impressed that Healer Smythwick had managed a second rebuff; heading a department must be doing wonders for the man's convictions! But alas, he was no match for the 'twinkle treatment' or so Minnie had dubbed it all those years ago.  
Carefully declining his head and forcing his face to fall ever so slightly nearly did the trick, and with his fatal blow Albus let disappointment leak into his tone as he said, "Oh, well. I am sure you've got it all in hand then Lucas. I suppose I will take my leave." Though Dumbledore claimed he would go,  
he did not move nor did Smythwick expect him to. Lucas heaved a great sigh in exasperation at his inability to resist even the mildest of influences from Albus even when he _KNEW_ what he was doing!  
"Oh alright you manipulative old coot. Yes, the muggle medicine worked wonders and allowed us to focus entirely on the spell damage. Truly, the fact you arrived when you did saved these poor people from a lifetime as mindless shells. We're not expecting a full recovery mind you, but we are fairly confident they will recover. You may take solace in the knowledge that your and Minerva's timely intervention was perhaps the most important factor."

Regaining his merry expression as if it had never left, Dumbledore attempted to console one of his favorite former students. As he stood, Albus patted Smythwick on the back with one hand while he dismissed his chair with his other. In a gentle tone Dumbledore tried the verbal approach,  
"Not at all my dear boy. It was you and your team here who healed them after all, hmm?"  
Not feeling reassured whatsoever, Lucas quirked a brow and glanced up at Dumbledore out the corner of his eye and replied, "Yes well, thank you again for your advice. I hope in future, you may satiate your thirst for knowledge on one of your books? Rather than force me to break ethics?" Lucas finished leadingly.  
In an effort of propitiation, Dumbledore allowed hope for the young – or at least younger than he – Healer with his parting comment as he stalked toward the door, "Of course Lucas, you have my thanks." 

-oOoOoOo-

Severus Snape was found at the bottom of several bottles at the Hogs Head Inn. When Albus entered, he took note of the disdainful expression on Aberforth's face; clearly Severus was not here making friends. Severus was about to fling his most recently emptied bottle of firewhiskey at the bin by the door but stopped short, bottle hanging limply over his shoulder, when he caught sight of Albus.  
Seeing this as a brilliant moment to intervene, Abe snagged the bottle from his least favorite patron and yelled at Severus and his older brother both, "Out of here the both of you! You're cut off you filthy drunk. Albus, get him out of here!"  
With a pleadingly apologetic look for his brother Abe, Albus calmly walked over to Severus and gently grabbed an arm, much to Snape's apparent displeasure. "UNHAND ME you useless bloody LIAR!"  
Snape shook off Dumbledore's grip and promptly stumbled back and fell flat on his arse.  
Albus nearly tried again to help him up but was angrily waved off as Severus drunkenly swaggered his way back to his feet. Once they were through the doors, Snape shuffled off to a large hill overlooking the small abandoned quarry to the east of Hogsmeade village, nearly losing his balance several times along the way. Upon reaching his apparent destination, Severus fell to his knees and threw a look of absolute loathing over his shoulder at the deeply saddened Headmaster behind him. "It's your fault! _YOU_! YOU SAID you would _SAVE HER_!"  
Snape's snarling shout contorted into a howl of rage and loss and bitter resentment.  
The sight before him was heart breaking for Albus to watch. This boy, who he had failed so many times before, was hurting, had been hurting, in ways Albus could barely fathom. For his entire life, Severus Snape had known great pains and had suffered again and again; at his father's hand, his childhood nemesis' hands, even his school friends' hands, and again, one last time, by Albus' hand.

"You are right. I could not save her, and I will bear the weight of that tragedy until the day that I die.  
But do you think yourself so innocent Severus? Did you not play your role too?"  
Albus tried desperately to keep from hurting Snape further, but it irked him greatly to think that he believed it was Albus and Albus alone who was responsible for the Potters' demise.  
With the greatest sneer Dumbledore had ever seen, Snape retorted,  
" _Yes_ Dumbledore. I played my role. I did EVERYTHING in my power to save her! Can you say the same!"  
Flinching back from the heat and accusation in Snape's words, Albus decided the hurting man before him needed a firm hand, rather than a scapegoat. With his voice quavering with passion and the air around them stirring from his unbidden magic Albus made his reply,  
"I spared no effort to save them ALL Severus! Are you still so childish, so selfish, that you only ever tried to save Lily!?"  
He barely restrained from shouting the words. Severus though, in a towering drunken fit of rage and depression held no such compunctions and fired back loudly, "I. DON'T. CARE!" With spittle flying from his mouth, and his hair an even more unruly mop than usual thanks to the spilt alcohol and splashed mud, Snape looked very nearly deranged. Albus inwardly cringed; he was so appalled by what had become of this meeting. A shouting match? No, Severus deserved redemption. He deserved to be saved, even though he was in no fit state to show it. Albus decided then and there he would save this boy.  
For Lily, or really for himself, but he could pretend, at least for a little bit, that this was to honor Lily.

"I can see that now Severus. What will you do now? Drown yourself in liquor? Wallow in self-pity?  
Perhaps you will.." Albus was cut off mid-sentence by Snape conducting a fair impersonation of a bull seeing red.  
Albus swiftly dodged to the side as Snape tripped and fell face first, sliding a bit with the momentum.  
When he came back up he was covered in mud, tears and grass, his expression furious but rapidly, the anger fell away leaving a blank mask. After a moment, he let his desolation take center stage in his expression and tone, and whispered to his former Headmaster, "I don't know what to do Dumbledore. I've failed her. Again." As he pondered on how best to help the miserable, besotted man at his feet, Albus drew an uncomfortable parallel to their situations. Thinking quickly, Dumbledore hastily assembled the base framework of a plan and in his desperation to help, he launched it at Severus,  
"What was most precious to Lily, Severus?" he asked. Snape looked up, his expression vague as if his thoughts were thousands of miles away from the here and now, and gave an uncomprehending look to Albus, who in return decided to explain the question, "Lily has moved on Severus, she has departed this world before her time and she is survived only by that which she held most precious. Her son."

"If there was ever a way for you to honor her memory.." Again Albus was cut off by Severus as he began to ramble, "It's not the same Albus. It's not the same. She's gone. It's my fault. She's gone.."  
Snape repeated over and over again, trapped in some metronomic cycle of despair, tears falling freely from his tired red eyes.  
Steeling his resolve, Albus put some heat behind his next words to break Snape from his reverie,  
"Make her sacrifice worth something Severus! She would not have wanted you to waste yourself away like this! Help her son grow, and thrive, and _live_ Severus, he has no one now. Redeem your past indiscretions. _Earn_ Lily's forgiveness." Dumbledore pleaded. Snape was beyond words as he wept into the ground silently for several minutes. Then suddenly he stood and stared off into the distance.  
After attempting to dry his eyes on his sleeve and failing since his sleeve was more wet than his face, he turned to Albus and nodded then said, "A wizard's oath then?" At Albus' nod of encouragement, Snape drew his wand and swore on his life and magic to protect and defend Harry James Potter.

After Dumbledore led Severus off to Madam Rosmerta's doorstep to beg a room for the night,  
Albus left off to the castle, his mind wandering as he walked. As his thoughts settled again on how devastatingly far reaching the deaths of the Potter's had been, he was overwhelmed by anger,  
anguish and confusion. Soon, he would go to Sirius Black and demand to know why. 


End file.
